


Interlude

by emmaliza



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Episode: s02e13 Star One, Foreshadowing, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Injured Sex, M/M, Quickies, Resolved Sexual Tension, genocidal aliens are total moment killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: In the midst of battling the Andromedans, Avon comes to check on Blake.
Relationships: Kerr Avon/Roj Blake
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> For a kinkmeme prompt requesting fic based on [this](http://31.media.tumblr.com/18a16f28bbddd4018781dcb14ffe94a0/tumblr_n0ak3fv03S1trtdt1o1_1280.jpg) Texts From the Federation meme. Possibly more shmoopy and srs than anticipated, but oh well.

"Is the battle over?"  
  
A fair question, given the ship has finally stopped shaking for the first time in three hours. Nonetheless, Avon shakes his head. "No, but the Andromedans are recalibrating their attack force. We should have about twenty minutes."  
  
"And you decided to come check on me," Blake says, sparing Avon the indignity of speaking it aloud. He chuckles, which quickly transforms into a wheezing hack, chest shuddering beneath his bandages. Avon reaches for him pointlessly. "How are the others?"  
  
Avon smiles to himself. _He's distracting me._ But he allows it, this time. "Well Vila bumped his head and is convinced he has a fatal concussion, but apart from that they're fine. What, Blake? Don't you tr–"  
  
But he cuts himself off. _I have always trusted you. From the beginning._ Yes, that's why he came here, isn't it? Because Blake's declaration hangs in the air between them, and it must be dealt with somehow, although Avon is still not at all prepared to discuss it directly.  
  
Perhaps it should not be as important as it is. But all that does is underscore how important it _is_.  
  
Unfortunately, there's no blast of alien fire for him to blame his sudden silence on, and so he's left with Blake looking at him, knowing exactly why he stopped. Blake bites his lip nervously. No doubt if he could move his hand, he'd be chewing his knuckles. "I thought you wanted to be free of me," he murmurs.  
  
Avon winces, reflecting on everything they said before. He did want that. He still does. But not for the reasons Blake must think, the reasons he wanted him to think.  
  
"Blake..."  
  
He knows there's no way he could ever tell Blake the truth out loud, and so instead he leans forward and presses his lips to Blake's own.  
  
Why not? He's already been hopelessly brave and reckless for Blake's sakes today. Why not add this to the tally? If it all goes wrong, he can easily blame it on post-battle adrenalin.  
  
Blake seems surprised by his gesture, but not that surprised. Quickly his good hand moves to cup Avon's jaw, to pull him in closer, kissing him back like he wishes they would never stop.  
  
Avon pulls away and looks into Blake's dark eyes, warm, inviting and infinitely deep. "I do want to be free of you," he murmurs. "I wish I could be. But I don't think I ever will."  
  
It takes Blake a second to understand what he's saying, but he does understand. "Oh." His strong fingers press tight against Avon's cheek, and then he kisses him again.  
  
Avon groans softly as he's invited deeper into Blake's mouth, as Blake nips gently at his bottom lip, as his tongue pushes forth to conquer. It's a dominance battle, of course, how could it be anything but, but of a playful sort, with both of them yielding and being yielded to in turn, and enjoying both immensely.  
  
Blake's hand moves from his jaw to grasp his shirt, pulling Avon forward to straddle his body on the surgical table. It's not entirely easy to position himself, since the surface wasn't built for two, but Avon manages it, one knee either side of Blake's hips. Heat rises in his groin and he knows he is definitely hard now, as if that simple kiss didn't do enough to rouse him.  
  
Panting for breath, Blake pulls away, leaving Avon's lips aching with the loss of him. "How long do we have?" he asks.  
  
"Fifteen minutes, more or less." He feels a stab of sadness. There's no time. If he could he would forget the war and have Blake here and now, spend hours making love to him. Days. But he can't. He gave his word and besides, Blake would never allow it.  
  
Blake doesn't seem to share his reaction, breaking into a wide grin. "I've wanted you so much," he leans up to whisper in Avon's ear, making him shudder. "I doubt it will take that long."  
  
White hot lust courses through Avon's veins then and he pins Blake down to the table, claiming his mouth with animal need. He can feel Blake's cock, hot and hard and rubbing against his own, and it's, it's so good, it's not enough, it's–  
  
"Ah!"  
  
Avon pulls back, sees Blake grimacing in pain, and realises in his passion he must have put too much weight on Blake's injured chest. "Sorry," he mutters, sheepish. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

He would hate to stop now (but he would hate to damage Blake further more), but the question must be asked. Blake chuckles. "Not particularly," he says. "You might have to be gentle with me."  
  
Avon grins himself then. "Not my field of expertise, I'm afraid."  
  
"Well you'll have to learn. I have faith in you."  
  
_Yes, you do, don't you?_ He bites his lip to keep from saying anything particularly foolish (like, say, _I love you_ ). He is more careful this time, grinding against Blake's thigh while keeping their chests inches apart, letting Blake push himself up on his good elbow so they can kiss more easily. One hand rests by Blake's head, keeping him upright, while with the other he squeezes Blake's hip to bring him in closer.  
  
"Avon," Blake gasps against his lips, rubbing against him with shaky, needy thrusts. "Avon, it's not enough. I need - oh, I need-"  
  
Avon has some idea. Hurriedly he lets go, reaching to instead undo Blake's trousers and pull his cock out, Blake arching his hips to make it easier. He bites his lip as he wraps his hand around it, and almost gasps when he gets to look at it. _Oh, he is big, isn't he?_ Avon remembers that from the London and its communal showers, a fact he tried very hard to put out of his mind and never quite succeeded - although that was nothing compared to seeing it like this, hard and ready for action. _And mine_. Avon aches with need imagining how that would feel inside him.  
  
He tightens his grip, getting a feel for the weight and the girth, only to grin in delight as Blake moans helplessly and bucks into his hand, precome beading at his tip.  
  
"And you," he gasps, sounding half-mad with lust. "Please, Avon."  
  
Avon is a little surprised, and unjustifiably reluctant to let go of Blake's cock, but he can hardly refuse, can he? With a sigh he turns to the task of getting his own trousers off, wincing as the leather drags against his skin. "In hindsight, I could have worn something a little easier to remove."  
  
"Oh, but you know I like you in leather," says Blake, nipping at his earlobe while he works. 'Know' would be overstating it, but he might have suspected. "Remember those boots you wore on Space City? I was this close to asking if you'd let me kiss them..."  
  
Avon laughs in delight. He wouldn't have expected that, but the thought of Blake worshiping his boots gives him a primal thrill he maybe ought not to mention aloud. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
With an undignified wiggle, Avon gets the leather trousers down to about mid-thigh, exposing himself to Blake's steady gaze. He is smaller, true, but insecurity he might suffer from that fact is quashed by the sheer raw, naked appreciation on Blake's face as he looks. He _licks his lips_ , and Avon takes that gesture as a promise, one he intends to hold Blake to.  
  
That done he leans in for another kiss, and the two of them fall back onto the table, Avon bracing his arm by Blake's side to keep from putting too much weight on him. With the arm not pinned to his chest Blake curls around Avon's lower back, pulling him closer, and their cocks slide together wetly, crudely, perfectly. Avon gives a loud groan and reaches between them, encircling their lengths and tossing them both off with one hand, relishing Blake's desperate moans.  
  
"Avon," he gasps, lips millimetres from Avon's own. "Faster."  
  
"Are you sure?" Avon slows down his pace deliberately, unable to help teasing. Blake is dripping for him. "You did say you wanted me to be gentle with you."  
  
" _Avon._ "  
  
Blake's raw, deep voice goes right through him and makes him shudder, and he picks up the pace immediately. _I would do anything for him_. Blake's satisfied sigh immediately transforms into keening cries as he thrusts to meet Avon's strokes.  
  
Blake was right, it won't last long. Avon's body is starting to shake with the effort of keeping himself upright as he pushes them both toward a sharp, desperate climax.  
  
"Avon, I need - it's not enough - god, I want-"  
  
It's not enough. Avon knows it isn't. He wants so much more than this too: he wants to kiss and lick every inch of Blake's body, to fuck and be fucked by him, to have Blake swallow his come and hence, have a part of him in him always. He wants-  
  
He spills with an obscene yelp of pleasure, loud enough he's sure they'll hear him on the flight deck. He'll have to think of an explanation for that. His seed makes an obscene mess between his hand and Blake's cock, some of it splashing onto his thighs and belly, before Blake follows him over the edge with a low groan and a tremor that seems to start in the very core of him and spread outward.  
  
Avon has to remind himself not to collapse on top of Blake in the post-orgasmic haze. It is awkward to keep his back propped slightly in the air while he burrows his face against Blake's neck, it will not thank him in the morning, but nevermind.  
  
As the bliss fades, Avon feels nerves settle in his stomach, even with Blake's fingers combing soothingly through his hair. If, by some miracle, they survive this battle, they will then have to answer the question of how this changes things on ship - because it will change things on ship, Avon isn't going to fool himself that it won't.  
  
Of course, things have already changed, since it is now his ship - if he's willing to press the point, that is. Granted, his side of the bargain fell through in a way no-one could have seen coming, but nonetheless they had a deal, and for all his dishonesties Avon doesn't think Blake the sort of man to break his word lightly.  
  
He would be within rights to leave Blake on Earth and fly off into space, like they said - but does he at all want to?  
  
_I want to be free of him_ , he said, but it doesn't feel as true anymore. It doesn't feel true at all. He wants to do everything to Blake he thought of before, everything they didn't have time to do here, everything they might never have time to do if they're all killed in a matter of minutes.  
  
The ship is struck by a sudden blast of fire while Avon is still weighing his options, throwing him from Blake's embrace and onto the cold hard floor, and preventing him from coming to a proper conclusion.  
  
"The Andromedans," Blake pushes himself up on his elbow to announce. "They're back."  
  
_Our twenty minutes are up._ "Yes, I rather gathered that," he mutters sullenly, but still, he takes Blake's good hand when it's offered to help him to his feet.  
  
"You need to get back to the flight deck."  
  
"I know." Still, he hesitates. Despite the urgency of the situation, he can't help but feel paralysed by what's transpired here - what they have resolved, and what they very much haven't.  
  
Blake smiles at him. "Don't worry," he says, thumb tracing over Avon's knuckles. "When you get back, I'll be waiting for you."


End file.
